Death's Memoirs5: Another HG Wells?
by DarqueQueen7
Summary: Bringing back Death of The Endless in a one-shot where she speaks with Harrison Gregory Wells - and decides what to do next. Based on Crazedtroll's Meta Tests story Among the Living, but it is a stand-alone story within the DC/Flash universe.
_A/N: Heya, B's and G's! LONG time no write. But lately I've been inspired by a fellow FFnet writer called Crazedtroll. CT's written a great series based The Flash TV series (which is freaking AWESOME!) called_ _ **Meta-Tests**_ _. There are 9 stories in the series and it would help to understand what's going on here if you read those first. The story that coincides with this one is_ _ **Among the Living**_ _._

 _However, this is a stand alone story, so if you're feeling lazy, no worries. The jist of it is Doctor Harrison Gregory Wells became a superhero in secret because he felt he had debts to pay and was nearly killed in his endeavor. As he hovers between Life and Death, he is visited by my all-time favorite character from the VERTIGO DC universe: Death of the Endless._

 _Please – give lots of love to FFnet writer Crazedtroll's stories – and I'll get the ugly stuff out of the way now. I do not own The Flash – that's DC Comics. Nor do I own Death, The Endless or anything from The Sandman – that's the property of Neil Gaiman and Vertigo DC. OH! And the poem is "The Ballad of Dick Turpin" by Alfred Noyes. So, without further ado, I give you…_

 **Death's Memoirs: Another H.G. Wells?**

 **by DarqueQueen7**

He was floating…at least that was what it felt like. It was dark, quiet and warm wherever he was. He wasn't sure if he was awake or not – and he found that he actually didn't care. He was aware of _self_ …but…he felt as if he were trying to think through molasses. _Wait…who am I?_

'You are Doctor Harrison Gregory Wells, a brilliant man…and a wounded soul,' a female British accented voice said softly. The free-form thoughts of Harrison Wells froze as he processed what the voice was saying. _That is_ _ **my name**_ _!_ he exclaimed. I AM _HARRISON GREGORY WELLS!_ He wondered briefly why the voice didn't sound anything like… _Chrissy_.

'So…who are you?' he asked, truly interested. The female voice laughed softly at that – and the horizon of this dark place slowly started to glow… as if the sun were beginning its climb into the sky. Sounds began to intrude – and the floating sensation whisked away as Harrison suddenly felt himself falling. He sucked in air with a great gasp and was ready to scream when his feet touched down on a solid surface; a soft, worn wooden surface. He looked down at himself and realized he was naked – and standing! He gasped again as he could feel the beach wind blow across his naked legs. He looked up and had to shield his eyes from a burning sun high in the sky. He could smell and taste the salt of the ocean in the air. Clothing suddenly appeared on himself – and he laughed as it all took on the color of black.

'You wear the color of all my acolytes. I am quite pleased,' the female voice mused softly. 'But you asked a question, didn't you? Who am I?' the voice laughed then; the sound a welcome addition. 'Loaded question, that is.'

The voice came from behind Harrison, so he turned – and found himself standing on a wooden deck by a beach. He gasped sharply again as he recognized the beach – _it was his beach!_ The beach where he and Tess first met; the beach he would build his sand castles on, the beach that he and Alika Hogan apparently owned together. Along with the hotel that stood grandly as the only building on it. He paused at that – _Hogan, his husband Richie and their paraplegic son Daniel_. A line from an old poem hit him suddenly:

 _He saw, but not as one that wakes, the city that he sought. He had escaped from London Town, but not from his own thought_.

The poem was about a man who, while attempting to escape a posse, died at the end of it. And Harrison Wells realized that _he was dying_. He paused as he turned back to look at the beach; the churning waves of the tumultuous sea. He turned his face into the wind and closed his eyes. Feeling the sun on his face; listening to seagulls cawing and the surf crashing in the distance. He smiled softly then. _Not a bad way to die_ , he thought ruefully.

He remembered taking Caitlin…Doctor Snow…with him to say good-bye to the memories that had held him fast on this beach; and apparently they held him here still if he was dreaming of this place at the end of his life. He remembered the picnic dinner he had on the beach with… _Caitlin_.

They had held hands the entire time as they watched the sandcastles being torn down…and as the sun settled into the sea. He had forgotten to be just a friend to her as he chased her around their hotel suite – and in those few fleeting moments, he went from a hesitant paraplegic man to a red-blooded male racing behind his quarry in his wheelchair, intent on stealing a kiss from a beautiful, pliant yet damaged woman.

He fell out of his chair and played dead. Then grabbing Caitlin as she bent down to check on him, entangled himself with her and sent them laughing to the floor. They stared at each other for breathless seconds… And the spell was suddenly broken as Caitlin disentangled herself and stood quickly. He cursed himself for hoping for something more as his brain and conscious kicked into gear.

He had lost his wife a long time before, whereas Caitlin had been without her husband a few scant months. He'd been able to patch up their mutual faux pas and the both of them were able to sleep together after the pair had nightmares to awaken them. They continued to share each other's beds for comfort, but hadn't taken the relationship any further. There wasn't a need to rush things.

But then…there was Hartley Rathaway…and Joe's injury, death and resurrection. Cisco's power; Harrison's claim that it was his own because Cisco feared revelation…and…The Chameleon. That last penance was to be the ultimate caveat. With its completion he could die anonymously, but be finally loved and ultimately trusted in the end. He knew prolonged use of The Chameleon Suit could eventually kill him; its power source sped him to his death. He remembered his arguments with Artemis…how many times had he thought he could just walk away from The Chameleon Suit? And if he did, his health would improve, the degradation would stop and most likely reverse itself. But when he wore it…he felt powerful. He could walk again…he could run…he could pee standing up again. In those times, he never wanted that freedom to end.

As he used it though, he knew…it was a lie. He experienced the guilt any ex-user could wax lyrical about; but all he could think of was that the pain…the scorn…the accusations… _the loneliness_ … _would finally be over if it did kill him_.

But…what had happened? Why was he still alive? He had been in contact with Artemis; it knew his vitals were failing…he then remembered saying sorry to Iris and Joe. Joe…his best friend in this world; in this sewn together cobbling of two timelines. But now, how much longer would he hover in this place in between?

 _Cohesion within this safe haven fell apart as he felt his heart seizing. Something was breathing for him; in the distance he heard an insistent beeping that suddenly stopped. And just as suddenly, his heart went back into a regular rhythm. The machine continued to breathe for him –_

And he was back on the beach…within his memories…or was he? He then turned around to look at the deck of the hotel properly. There were a few wrought iron tables and chairs with white frilly umbrellas shading the tables and chairs. They were all empty except for one.

'Who…,' Harrison began as he saw the owner of the female voice. She looked like a small lost Goth dressed in Steam Punk gear. And, of course, her chosen colors were shades of black. Black loosely curled long hair fell down her back, a black brushed suede short top hat with copper coloured goggles sat above the brim and a black velvet and lace pleated corset was completed with a burnt velvet brocaded overcoat that had a single button at her waist.

Her light colored eyes were heightened by the white kabuki face paint and dark kohl around them. The right eye in particular caught his attention; it was painted in the shape of The Eye of Horus. A large silver ankh hung from a black leather cord around her neck, glinting brightly in the sunlight dappling the deck. Black lace cut-off gloves decorated her hands and blood red lipstick adorned her lips, completing her look.

Harrison realized who she was the second she looked up to him and beckoned him over with a wave of her hand. 'Oh…Death really is a Goth,' he exclaimed softly, earning a hearty chuckle from the Lady in question.

'Doctor Harrison Gregory Wells,' she began as she patted the wrought iron chair next to her. 'Should I say Harrison…or HG?'

'Harrison is good,' he answered as he took the seat offered. 'Am…am I dead then?' he asked hesitantly.

'Not yet,' she answered quickly. 'But…I've checked and rechecked my schedule. I don't really see a defined pick-up time for you, so I'm left in a bit of a conundrum.'

'Oh?' Harrison asked. 'Why is that?'

A waitress exited the hotel and walked towards the table, pulling out a tablet and pencil. 'Are you ready to order?' she asked politely. Harrison turned to her and recognized her as a server from the hotel's restaurant the night he and Caitlin ate dinner with Alika Hogan and his family.

'Well,' said Death amicably. 'Since there is no Big Belly Burger establishment within close proximity, I'll have a bacon cheese burger, heavy on the bacon, grease and salt, please. Oh, and a side order of chips, sorry, french fries with ketchup. And a Long Island Iced Tea, heavy on the Island.' She then looked to Harrison. 'Ask for anything; she'll bring it.'

Harrison smiled at that. 'I'll have the same, please, Jenny,' he said, suddenly remembering the waitress's name.

'Of course, Doctor Wells,' Jenny said, smiling genuinely at the pair. 'Coming right up.' The woman quickly turned around and vanished into the hotel through the French doors. Harrison then looked at his dining companion.

'Why are you in a conundrum?' he asked. 'Either I'm going to die – or I'm not. And you're going to collect me – or not. Eventually.'

Death sighed heavily then as Jenny reappeared with a tray in front of her bearing two Long Island Iced Teas and two glasses of water. She placed all the glasses on the table in front of them, putting two wrapped straws down for the water. 'Food will be along in a bit,' she said as she gave them a small curtsey and vanished inside the hotel with the tray tucked under her arm.

'You scientific types are all so bloody literal,' Death groused slightly. 'I'm honestly surprised I was able to get in here at all.'

'Here…where?' Harrison asked, flabbergasted.

'Your mind!' Death said ruefully, as she reached over and tapped the side of his head. 'You lot are so…close minded! I swear I could show up with graphs and diagrams proving the sky is blue and your lot would return with the same proof and say otherwise!' She looked intently into the curious blue eyes that stared at her – and chuckled softly. 'So, your parents honestly named you Harrison Gregory? Were they comedians – or were they setting you up to be ribbed by Death herself?

'I don't know,' Harrison answered honestly. 'I never knew them. Why do you ask?'

'I met the original H.G. Wells. Poor Herbert George; he was such a sad, heartbroken man in the end. He was quite happy to shuck off his mortal coil. So, let me ask you a simple question, Harrison Gregory Wells. Do you want to die?'

Harrison sat back in the padded chair, letting out a huff of air in a breathy laugh as he cupped the back of his head with his hands. 'The sixty-four dollar question, huh?' he asked back. Death laughed out loud at that, then tilted her head up as a sound was heard in the distance. It wasn't as loud as the sounds of the surf and seagulls calling, but it was there nonetheless; like an annoying toothache. He turned back to her. 'What is that?' he asked.

'Listen carefully,' she instructed. 'Then you tell me.'

Harrison looked up to the sky and strained to listen to the sounds that were intruding… _and he was back at S.T.A.R Labs. He could hear…Cisco! Cisco was talking to him! He could hear the despair in the young man's voice…asking…for forgiveness? But, there was nothing to forgive! He had to admit, he had been hurt when Cisco rejected his overtures of friendship. But once it was explained, albeit in a most explosive fashion, he understood why the young man was afraid of…Eobard. The man who had stolen his face and life in their timeline. Who had murdered not only Tess, but himself and later Cisco._

 _His body was failing…it was the implant feedback caused by the gunshot wounds he'd received during his battle with GoldenBoy; it wasn't their faults! He did this to himself! It wasn't his intention to die within the suit saving the people of Central City. But he felt that it was better he die than an innocent. If only…_

And he was seated next to… 'Are you really Death?' he asked, chuckling softly at the absurdity of this conservation.

'Did you figure out who was talking?' she asked, eating her bacon cheeseburger with gusto. 'Food arrived while you were out with Lucy,' she said smiling.

'It was Cisco. Francisco Ramon…a powerful metahuman. And in another timeline, a very close friend.' He sat quietly for a second. 'Lucy?' Harrison asked as he shifted to grab the ketchup bottle and douse his fries with it. He then remembered Tess always chided him on how he could be so meticulous with his experiments and note-taking; and yet at times ate like an underfed savage. Death snorted at that, making Harrison look up at her.

'I hear everything here, my friend. Yes, I am Death of The Endless. And I meant "Lucy In The Sky With Diamonds".'

'I…,' Harrison paused then. Did he want to die? Did he want to give everything up? Although he never said it aloud, he _**realized it was his intent all along**_. _He wanted…the pain, the gnawing emptiness within his soul to be filled. For the noise and incessant chatter within his being to be silenced forever! And if Death was the only way for it to end…_ _ **but was it**_ _?_

He looked to his dining companion. 'If I accept…your invitation, what happens? I mean…what happens next?'

Death chewed her burger thoughtfully for a moment before taking a small sip of her water. 'I don't really know,' she said finally. Harrison groaned at that through a mouth full of bacon cheeseburger and fries. 'Seriously, I do not. It is not my place to know. You see, the next journey is a bargain arranged between The Soul and The Creator. Reincarnation or Ascension; Black or White. But in your case, there is that annoying sliver of gray.'

'Because I'm not dead yet,' Harrison answered. Death nodded as she finished her last bite of burger and took hold of the ketchup bottle to squeeze a pool of it in a corner of her plate. She then grabbed two long fries and swirled them into the ketchup. 'What do you mean Reincarnation or Ascension?' he asked.

She laughed at that as she took a drink from the Iced Tea this time, her toffee colored eyes looking deeply into his ice blue ones. 'Exactly what it says on the cover, Harrison Gregory. There is a Gate Room within The Halls of The Endless – and I take you to The Gate. There, you and…a higher Power decide what you want to do next.'

'And I can't go now -,' Harrison began.

'Because you aren't dead yet,' Death finished for him. He stared at her before looking down to his half eaten meal.

'I'm hungry,' he said softly, marveling at feeling the pangs of hunger. 'Am I in a coma?'

'Yes,' came the soft reply. 'You've been in one for over seven weeks now, Harrison. Francisco has given up hope. He can enter your memories…but you're a powerful Sender anyway,' she finished, looking over the edge of her glass. 'You're also incredibly empathic. You truly are an incredible specimen of human being.'

'Will I be a vegetable?' Harrison asked suddenly, looking from his food to Her face. It was perfectly neutral.

'I am not sure. I couldn't tell you anyway…that could skewer your final decision – and it would be cheating, after all.'

Harrison nodded, then shook his head in disagreement. 'You should be able to bend the rules a bit. You keep saying I'm a special case, after all.'

Death smiled at that. She could feel the stirrings of a fight within this one. Perhaps this H.G. would make her intervention worthwhile. 'So – tell me the pros and cons of your returning to your life. Start with the cons, since they've angered you the most.'

'It isn't _my life_ anymore!' Harrison almost yelled. Death looked to his face and motioned for him to continue. 'I mean…the timeline changed! The people I work with are not the same people I spent years with before the singularity was opened. In my timeline, I had made a mistake with the particle accelerator. People hated me; my body was destroyed from the waist down! But…,' he sighed then. 'I had my friends. I had the trust, respect, life-long friendship and love of Chrissy McGee. Of Cisco and…Caitlin. Barry saw, respected and loved me as a father figure and role model. Barry's mother had never been killed; his parents trusted me with their son! I did not know Joe, his daughter Iris or his work partner Eddie Thawne. But my life was not poorer because of that. I had Artemis…the son Tess and I would have had, had it not been for that damned accident that took away her ability to have children. I had Tess for seven more years than I did in the timeline the others remember. She and I had Cameron. Poor, beautiful broken Cameron…he was so happy that he and Tess were going out shopping. She called me just as they were leaving the mall to go home…and then they were both gone.' Harrison was openly crying at this point – and then he heard noise coming from above…from –

 _His heart was seizing again; he heard the drone of the heart monitor and it was immediately silenced. He then hovered above his body, watching everything from the ceiling of S.T.A.R. Labs. It was a room off to the right of the Cortex. He was in a bed and was attached to so many machines; there was more metal and plastic then man in the bed._

 _Then the room changed; he was home, in his bed…in his bedroom. They must have thought the end was near…and they brought him home to die._

 _He looked around his bedroom – and the first thing he noticed was a large planter in front of the large picture window. He chuckled as he saw Carlton walk in from the garden and accommodate himself within the planter. Turning back, he saw he had visitors. Artemis was tending to him; replacing tubes and changing gauze from his wounds. Caitlin came in and spoke with Artemis; Judy sat close by with Rupert. Rupert was reaching out to him; his little hands making grabby fist shapes and his wriggled his fingers towards the prone body in the bed. His heart lurched. Caitlin left for the basement laboratory as Barry, Joe and Tina McGee entered. His heart lurched again. His friends! His friends were here…hoping for him…_ _ **hope**_ _. That was something he'd forgotten about…._

He was sitting across from Death as she stared at him intently. 'What is wrong?' she asked softly. 'You've given me cons. Now give me the pros.'

Harrison sucked in a breath. 'They…,' he sucked in another breath harshly. If there was a machine breathing for him, why was he having trouble breathing here? 'They were all there…even Chrissy. I…I'd forgotten about Rupert. Little Rupert knew there was something wrong with me before…,' he trailed off, looking into the toffee pools that were the eyes of Death. 'Oh…God help me!' he whispered suddenly, grabbing at the edge of the table, pulling himself closer to Her. 'I want to go back! How do I go back? How do I end this? Is it too late?' he asked desperately.

Death continued to give him her intense stare. 'Why now?' she asked evenly. 'You spoke with Artemis, in both his human form and AI voice. They both were against what you were planning with The Chameleon Suit. They fought with you over it for months! Why now? What has changed?'

Harrison slowly stood from the table, looking up into the beautiful blue sky, listening to the surf, the birds and the wind. 'I…I want to come back to this place for real. I want to bring all of my friends here. I want them to meet Al, Ritchie and Daniel. I want to call them all "friends" again! I don't want to experience this as a dying memory! They feel sorry for me; feel like they've wronged me; when in fact it is I who's wronged them!' He raised his hands to his head; running his fingers through his already unruly hair.

'I've not given them the time to discover me, to realize I'm not that…animal from a future time who stole my face in that other timeline!' He then rounded on Death, his face flushed with anger and indignation. 'I AM NOT EOBARD THAWNE! I will no longer apologize for that monster! He has taken enough from all of us! He took Barry's family life; he killed Tess, I and Cisco. And so many others that would have protected not only Central City, but the Earth as well! And he murdered them with the particle accelerator! He targeted them specifically – to leave the Earth defenseless…or with less evil Metahumans. But we'll never know because they are gone!

'I may not be a Metahuman, my body may be broken and I'm now stuck in a wheelchair for however long I have left, but I AM one of the greatest intellects alive! And I refuse to yield anymore ground to that yellow leather suited bastard after his death! I…I have two sons that need me as much as I need them. I have a Meta-rosebush, Carlton. Who, other then Artemis, Cisco and I, can understand him? I have Barry, Cisco and Joe! And I have Al, Ritchie and Daniel! Al would tan my hide if he thought for one second that I was giving up. I have Tina and Judy and…Caitlin. Dear, sweet, loving Caitlin. I want _a life_ with her! I want to _love her_! I can't…I refuse to RUN AWAY ANYMORE!' he yelled, punching the wrought iron chair he had just risen from. The wrought iron chair trembled…and then collapsed in on itself as if it had been made out of black licorice and disappeared into the deck.

As Harrison looked around, the entire beach scene melted away as if it were a wet oil painting; the colors turning into a thick viscous blob blending until it was a mass of black disappearing down an invisible drain at the bottom of their feet. He looked around and saw that he and Death were now in a Room of White. A Place In Between; this was so different then the dark place he had started out in. There was no comforting feeling here; no color, no sound except for his heavy breathing. He dropped to his knees, suddenly world weary and heartbroken. All he wanted was to go home…

'I do not want to die, Death of The Endless. I don't want to just survive…I WANT TO LIVE! How do I find my way back home?' he whispered as tears began to fall down his cheeks.

Death walked over to the prone man and placed a kind, gentle hand under his chin. 'Harrison Gregory Wells,' she whispered as she angled his head to look up at her. He kept his eyes closed, the tears still flowing freely as she then raised her hand to stroke the spot above his nose on the bridge of his forehead where his Third Eye would be. 'Open…your…eyes, H.G.,' she whispered. 'Open…your…eyes….'

~~{000}~~

'HARRISON! OPEN YOUR EYES! Let me see those beautiful blue eyes, damn it!' a tearful voice gripped in terror suddenly yelled. This voice sounded familiar…this voice… _he knew!_ 'Your airway is free! The breathing tube is out! Breathe, damn it! BREATHE!' Tears of joy and relief began to pour down the sides of his face as he turned slowly towards the commanding voice.

He suddenly took a huge gasp of air as he tried opening his eyes; his hands gripping the sheet covering him. A warm hand was shielding his eyes from the brightness that suddenly surrounded him. 'Caitlin?' he asked softly, his voice barely above a whisper. He heard other voices around him within the room crying out in tearful happiness as the final lines of his poem popped into his head:

 _He strode up to that dreadful Thing that in the gateway stood; and it stretched out a ghostly hand that the dawn had stained with blood._

 _It stood, as in the Gates of Hell, with none to hear or see._

' _Welcome,' it said. 'Thou'st ridden well; and outstripped all but Me.'_

He finally opened his eyes and, tilting his head slightly to the side, he saw _**Her**_ standing in the far corner of his bedroom. She was away from the crowd of people gathered by his bed.

 _A tad dramatic, don't you think?_ she asked without speaking as she smiled broadly. _I'll come for you one day, Harrison Gregory,_ she continued. _But it will not be today – and it won't be for a while yet. Please give my love to everyone in your life, and I wish you only happiness from now on_ , she continued as she gestured towards Caitlin Snow. _But remember…in the end, I do visit Every One and Every Thing._ She smiled brightly as she began to fade. _But for right now…you have outstripped me, my H.G. Wells. And I graciously and most happily concede._

He grabbed the hand trying to shield his eyes – and looked up into the red rimmed tearful eyes of Christina McGee. 'Chrissy,' he whispered as he smiled through his own tears and gripped her hand with as much strength as he could muster. 'I'm here. I'm… _finally home_.'

 _ **FINIS**_

 _A/N: Well, I hope you enjoyed this. As I said in the beginning, this is a tie-in to the last of Crazedtroll's Meta Tests series; the story is called_ _ **Among the Living**_ _. I do recommend reading that, but this is a stand alone story that can be read on its own. Also, at the request of Crazedtroll, I HAVE NOT BEEN MADE PRIVY TO WHAT WILL ULTIMATELY HAPPEN TO HARRISON. So, I have no idea what's going to happen to the poor sod in her story. For me, I wanted to give him redemption. And that can only be enjoyed if you're alive to receive it._

 _On a personal note, this story means a great deal to me because I did have an OBE in December of 1998. I didn't have an extensive conversation with Death, but I did have one that truly ticked me off. I was away in a dark, quiet place that I was more than happy to stay in, until I was finally dragged back to the Land of The Living. There have been many times since that I've been seriously ticked about being brought back. And then, there are others that I am Thankful that I've been given a second chance. And that feeling is what I've hopefully imparted to Harrison._

 _This is the first time I've ever used part of my experience in my writing – and I'm glad that I finally have._

 _Please enjoy!_

 _Darque 3/11/16_


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